


"My rules, remember?"

by harnessthelight



Category: Arrow - Fandom, olicity - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2413655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harnessthelight/pseuds/harnessthelight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Anon asked: "My rules, remember?"</p>
    </blockquote>





	"My rules, remember?"

**Author's Note:**

> Anon asked: "My rules, remember?"

"My rules, remember?" Felicity scolded, swatting Oliver’s hand away. It was his third time with his hand caught in the whipped cream of her marshmallow-pumpkin pie.

"But your rules are stupid," He retorted. 

"You’re the one who told me this dinner would be under my rules!" She laughed, pulling the pie away from him. 

After unknowingly missing Thanksgiving, Oliver gave the job of creating a makeshift Thanksgiving dinner to a saddened Felicity. Since her house was experiencing some plumbing problems, and since Oliver had yet to properly use his new kitchen, she decided to have the dinner at his apartment. 

He watched in amusement as she flowed from one end of the kitchen to the other- mixing this, cutting that, tasting this, seasoning that. She maneuvered expertly through his cupboards and fridge, pulling out ingredients and kitchen tools he never knew he had. If this were anyone else, he would have thrown them out of his place. Thanksgiving was never really celebrated in the Queen mansion; it was usually a more elegant meal where either Oliver or Thea were absent from. On the rare occasions he stayed for dinner, he only ever saw the food placed in front of him. But now, watching Felicity, he rather enjoyed watching her race to finish their dinner. 

"Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?" He offered, leaning across the counter from where he sat behind. 

"Nope," She shook her head, taking a taste of some bubbling broth. "That needs more salt." After sprinkling salt into the pot, she turned to him. "You’re good with a bow and arrow, Oliver, but knives aren’t really your forte. Well, knives that you don’t throw. No offense."

"None taken," He laughed, his eyes landing on the image printed on her apron. "That’s cute." 

She looked down at herself and smiled. It was a cartoon of a familiar-looking hooded hero, his bow and arrow aimed at an animated turkey wearing a pilgrim’s hat.

"I thought you’d like it. I saw it at the mall and I couldn’t help myself," She smiled, turning back to the stove. "Oliver, where’s your colander?"

He blinked. “My what?”

"Nevermind," She sighed.

He pressed his lips together as he watched her search through another cupboard. She was fully engrossed in finding the- what was it? Coin lander? He eyed the pie at the edge of the counter and leaned over to steal a swipe of whipped cream.

"Oliver Queen, what did I say?" She scolded.

He looked up, obviously caught red-handed. He slinked back in his seat. “Sorry.”

"I found the colander. It’s this, by the way," She held up a stainless steel bowl with holes carved into it. "Now, where’s your turkey baster?"

He furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head at her. “I’m sorry, my turkey what?”

"Wow," She mouthed, pulling open a drawer. "You know, I should probably draw you a map of your kitchen- where your utensils are, what they’re used for."

"I know utensils, Felicity," He said, rising from his seat. He held up different utensils. "Fork. Spoon. Knife- the kind I don’t throw at people." Felicity smiled, and he held up another one. "Coin lander."

"Colander," She corrected. "But close enough."

He shrugged and rounded the counter. “When can we eat?”

"When that timer counts down to zero," She pointed at the clock above the oven. It was currently counting down from 43 minutes. "And when everybody gets here." As if on cue, the bell rang. "Do you mind getting that?"

"Funny, I thought this was my apartment," He muttered. He flinched as an oven mitt flew into the back of his head. 

Upon opening the door, Diggle, Lyla, Roy, Thea, Sara, and Laurel stood chattering amongst themselves.

"Hey, guys. Please, come in," He gestured. 

"Wow, Oliver. It smells great in here," Thea commented, giving her brother a hug. "Why didn’t our house ever smell like this?"

"Probably because we were rarely at home for Thanksgiving," He reminded her. 

"Wow. Felicity went all out, huh?" Diggle elbowed him, gesturing to the frantic blonde in the kitchen.

"She swatted my hand when I tried to taste her pie," Oliver told him.

"Four times, by my count," Felicity said from the kitchen. "Thea, Roy, do you guys mind bringing the bread and cranberry sauce into the dining room? Sara, Laurel, can you grab the drinks? Lyla, if you could, can you finish tossing the salad? Digg, just grab the casserole, please." She turned to look at them when nobody moved. "What?" They looked at Oliver.

"Her rules," He shrugged, motioning for them to carry out her requests. "I can take the pie- Okay, nevermind." He held his hands up when Felicity shot him a look.

"You can take the stuffing," She nudged towards a large bowl of steaming food.

Sighing, he took the bowl into the dining room, but not before eyeing the pie still on the counter.

About thirty minutes later, after everyone was seated, Felicity called Oliver into the kitchen.

"What, do you need me to carry the turkey?" He asked, scanning the counter for oven mitts.

"Nope, I got it," She smiled, holding up the still-steaming bird. "Can you grab the pie, please?"

His face lit up. “Absolutely.”


End file.
